His Eyes
by Hopeakaarme
Summary: Remus has not cheated on Severus, not ever. However, his lover is not ready to believe that not, because Remus is pregnant, and Severus is, thanks to Voldemort, sterile. SLASH and MPREG RLSS
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Never ever.

A/N: Just something I found from the beginning of my second oldest notebook... Insane, I think.

* * *

His Eyes

* * *

His eyes.

I can't see blame or accuse in those deep, black orbs. They don't look angry, only sad and hurt and full of questions. Those are questions that I'd love to answer but I can't, since I don't know the answers even myself.

And if I don't, then who does?

"Why?" he speaks aloud the most important of the questions. It's only one word, but it says so much, so many different questions are included in it. 'Why don't you love me anymore?' his eyes ask, begging for the answer he knows I can't give. How could I? I still love him. 'Why did you lie to me, Remus? Why did you ever say that you loved me, if you didn't?'

I shake my head slowly. I have nothing to say, I cannot say anything. There's so much I'd like to say, I'd like to make him believe, but I can't. He knows the facts, just as well as I do. But he doesn't know the most important one - that I never did anything.

He repeats his words. This time, however, he specifies it into one question - the one that hurts us both the most. "Why did you cheat on me, Remus?" demands he, the only one I've ever truly loved, thus denying everything there is between us, denying the meaning of those feelings.

"I never cheated on you," I answer the only one of his questions I know for certain.

"Don't lie to me," he replies. His face is blank, but the pain in his eyes isn't fading. Instead, it seems to grow with every passing moment. I feel a stab of guilt in my heart, and yet I know I've done nothing wrong.

"Why don't you believe?" I ask from him, swallowing back tears that threaten to fall. "You're the only one I love, Severus, the only one I've ever loved! I'd never sleep with anyone else!"

"Remus," he says, trying to hide his own pain with the sharp, icy tone in his voice, "we both know that I'm not, and will never be able to father a child."

I know. Merlin, I know. And yet I know that I've never slept with anyone but him. Still, I also know that I'm pregnant.

And now Severus knows that, too.

"And we both know that male werewolves can become pregnant only by the one they're in love with," I whisper softly. "It's a part of our natural magic."

"I know that," he replies. "Now I'm only wondering whom you really love, since it obviously isn't me." His eyes hurt me, I want to turn my gaze away but I can't, I can't force my eyes to leave his, since I don't know whether I'll ever see them again.

"I love you," I say, and I know I'm sounding rather desperate. But I am desperate, I have to make him believe me. "I know that it is hard to believe because Voldemort's curse left you sterile. But somehow, I'm pregnant. And the child is yours, Severus, I swear by my heart that it is. I've never cheated on you, not as much as kissed anybody else."

"I'd love to believe that," he says, and closes his eyes for a brief second before locking his gaze on me again. "But, unfortunately, I'm finding it rather impossible."

"Severus -" I start to say, but he raises his hand, interrupting me. I fall silent, trying to convince him with my eyes that I'm telling the truth.

"Don't say anything," he advises. His tone isn't as cold anymore, it is almost gentle. Still, there's a distance to it that tells that I've already lost him. "I don't want to hear anything, since I love you too much to confront you about this." He gets on his feet, his eyes avoiding me. "I'll leave now. Feel free to go to anyone who makes you happy, since I obviously am not that person."

I'd like to scream that it's not true, that I cannot be happy without him, that I'm nothing without him. But I can't, since he would not listen to me, and I've already hurt myself too much.

He turns around in a whirl of midnight-black hair and equally dark robes. Then he walks away, his robes billowing threateningly, his steps just as silent as always, his head kept firmly in an upright position. And I, the abandoned lover, watch him leave, unable to do anything about it.

I watch him as he walks away from my life, and I feel as my heart goes away with him.

* * *

Should I write some more, to clear up the situation? Or should I just leave it as it is?

Also, suggestions for a better name will be joyously accepted.


	2. You Don't Look Back

Disclaimer: I only own the song and the plot.

A/N: God, I haven't continued this for a "while", now have I? Fortunately to you, I've now written updates to about half of my stories while I've been offline because our comp got broken...

And to some that might wonder: THE SONG IS MINE. All songs I use in my fics are mine. The only piece of another person's work I've ever used in my fics is **Cassandra Claire**'s "Gates of Hell" speech in _I Can Only Dream_.

* * *

His Eyes

You Don't Look Back

* * *

Remus

* * *

Two months.

Two months of carrying Severus's child, meaning three weeks since I was left alone. It's been three weeks after the last time I've seen Severus, other than as a retreating form in the distance. Even when I was at Hogwarts, he seemed to be avoiding me -- or maybe it was me avoiding him? Either way, I was both relieved and disappointed about that -- I would have wanted to see him again, but I don't know whether I could have born seeing the hatred and rejection there surely would have been in his eyes.

Yes, I have visited Hogwarts. Poppy, who initially informed me about my pregnancy, wanted to check up on me. She of course had noticed that I and Severus had broken up, and asked for the reason. When I told her that he didn't believe he was the father of my child, she at first fell silent, then told me that a simple spell would prove Severus's paternity, but that it couldn't be used on an unborn child. Therefore, I only have to wait until the child is born.

There are only two questions now. One: am I able to wait seven months more? And, two: will I ever survive to see that happen? Most male werewolves do, but some don't. Many more don't than in female pregnancies, too many more. And after the War, I've been rather weak because of the injuries I got in the fights.

...Merlin, I have to survive. I want to see Severus again, I want to hold my child in my arms... I want my child to know his or her father. Will I be granted that? Will I get what most people do?

* * *

Severus

* * *

It's been three weeks since I found out about Remus's betrayal. Three weeks of loneliness and I'm already aching for him. I want him, I need him, Merlin, I _love_ him... And I cannot have him.

Well, actually, I could. He didn't leave me; it was I who left him. But I don't want that, since I don't want to face the possible rejection -- after all, he loves another. Besides, no matter how much I'd love being with him, there's no way I could stay knowing that he'd rather want another.

...Why hasn't he reunited with his true love already? Or has he already done that, and I just don't know about it? And why did he tell me, lie to me in the first place? Why'd he want me to think that a stranger's child is mine?

Or maybe his true love doesn't care for him enough to take care of him and the child? If it is so, I will find out who it is and kill him with my bare hands. Nobody is allowed to break my Remus's heart -- no matter that he has broken mine. No matter that he isn't mine, either, not anymore.

He used to be mine, though... Or was he ever? Was it just me, living in some weird dream, not seeing the truth beneath it all? Maybe he cheated on me all the time we spent together. Maybe he's never truly cared for me.

...I love you, Remus. I love you so fucking much... Why can't you love me?

* * *

_You promised me all your endless love_

_You promised the Earth, and the heaven above_

_You promised me the stars and the Moon_

_It ended soon, it ended too soon._

* * *

Remus

* * *

Three months.

I'm three months along now. Morning sickness is my frequent friend, and the only food I can stomach is broccoli ice cream. Weird, I know, but it helps. A bit.

I want Severus to be there, to stand next to me, to tell me that it will be worth it, that I will indeed survive to see my child. Our child. But I know that it won't be, and nothing could pain me as much.

I never wanted anything as much as a child. I'd even got Severus half convinced that we could have children together -- until Voldemort cursed him as his last punishment to the traitor, making him sterile. And at that moment, I saw my dreams being torn to shreds -- until I found out I was pregnant. For a moment, I was overjoyed.

The joy didn't last for long, however. Severus didn't believe that the child was his. Why would he have, anyway? He knew very well that he couldn't father a child. How did I imagine that he'd believe anything else than that I had cheated on him?

I haven't. I haven't, for the love of Merlin, I've never even kissed another, and yet I am with a child. With Severus's child -- I have to think so, otherwise, I would become crazy. But whose else's could it be? _Whose_ could it be, when Severus cannot become a father?

I cannot abort it -- well, technically, I could, but I'd never do that. It'd be nothing but a downright murder, and to think that I would murder my own child... Impossible, simply that. But I cannot help thinking that it'd be better if this had never happened, if I wasn't with a child. My deepest dream ever had been to have a child of my own, yes, but even deeper is my love for Severus. For him, I was ready to give up my dreams of a child, to forget parenthood in order to be with him. And now I'm pregnant, how, I don't know even myself. And I don't have Severus with me.

At times like this, I hope Kingsley was still alive. Merlin, I really hope he was still alive. I miss him -- after Sirius's death, he was my only true friend. Besides Severus, of course, but as Severus is -- or was? Is, I have to hope, I have to -- also my lover, I didn't really count him as a friend. And now Kingsley is dead, he died in the Final Battle just a couple of hours before Harry brought Voldemort down. It's been two and a half months now.

I still can remember those long nights we spent talking about everything and anything. Mostly the War, yes, and Harry and, at times, Sirius, but also anything else we might have thought of. It was relaxing to know that he didn't expect anything from me, that he didn't see me as a raging beast and a wild animal to be wary of, as a parental figure, or as the last remaining piece of a time that was lost. To Kingsley, I was always just Remus -- not a werewolf, Professor Lupin, or Moony. I was _me_, myself. Nobody else ever saw me as just Remus, plain and simple -- nobody but Kingsley, and Severus.

And now Kingsley is dead, and Severus sees me as a traitor, a cheater, a betrayer.

* * *

Severus

* * *

Three months. That's how far along Remus is, at least if Poppy told me the truth. Three months, and I think I know already who his true love is.

Kingsley Shacklebolt. That's the name of the man who holds Remus's heart in his dark hands. He's the man who slept with _my_ Remus, who created a child with _my_ Remus, who fulfilled the one of Remus's dreams I never could.

Yes, I knew very well that Remus never wanted anything as much as a little child of his own. And that was the one thing I couldn't give him -- despite my family fortune, despite my magical powers, I could not give him that. Voldemort cast a curse on me that left me sterile, thus, I cannot be the father of Remus's child. If I was, nothing could make me happier, but I am not. And nothing could hurt me more.

So how do I know that it was Shacklebolt? Easy, and very simple. Remus has not returned to his true love. And Shacklebolt is the only one he cannot return to, since Shacklebolt is dead, he's been dead for two and a half months. Thank -- or blame, whatever -- the Death Eaters.

And they spent a lot of time together, didn't they? They were _friends_, after all. Especially after Black's death, Remus clung to him like a lost child. I do not know what they talked about all those long, lonely nights, but I'm beginning to believe that it was not only talking. And what about all those missions they went to together? What happened in the middle of fighting and hiding? And will I ever know that?

Do I even want to know?

* * *

_I saw your eyes, I saw their light_

_I knew that you would be worth the fight._

_I never knew what your love would cost:_

_My heart was lost, my heart was all lost.

* * *

_

Remus

* * *

Four months.

The morning sickness has left, and for that, I am grateful. I'm still unable to stomach certain foods, and especially fish makes me want to throw up. I live for tea, vanilla ice cream, and dill pickles, and curse myself daily for being so much like a cliché pregnant woman. However, I am a pregnant werewolf, so maybe I have to forgive myself for certain cravings. After all, it could be worse.

Although I find it hard to believe that it could be worse every time when I wake up to an empty bed, not having Severus with me. The only things that tell me that he's still alive are the little vials of Wolfsbane I receive every month. There's never the name of the sender on them, but who else would send me such a thing, especially with the Hogwarts school owls?

Why's he doing it? By Albus's command, no doubt. However, as much as it reliefs me to know that my mind will remain through the full moons and I won't hurt others or myself -- and especially my baby -- it's still painful. It's painful, because it reminds me of Severus -- not that I ever went a day without thinking about him. Or an hour. Or a fucking quarter of hour of my time.

But how could I stop loving him, even if he doesn't love me?

* * *

Severus

* * *

He's four months along now. Soon he'll start to show, if he isn't showing already. I couldn't know, since I haven't seen him for about three months. Two months and three weeks, to be exact. And two days, five hours, seventeen minutes.

Last Tuesday I didn't think about Remus for two whole hours of my waking time. It was such a big event that I marked it on my calendar.

It was truly painful to brew the Wolfsbane, bottle it, and send it to him. However, I couldn't help myself. Even if he doesn't love me, I love him somewhere deep in my heart. And I cannot let him face the full moon without the aid of the potion. I just can't.

Sometimes, I think of everything we've come through together. I think of the fateful day Black sent me to the Shrieking Shack, by that breaking our relationship. I think of getting back together with Remus during the First War -- I still think it was Remus's love for me that made Black trust Pettigrew more than him -- and keeping our facadé up all those years, until Black escaped. Then, at school, acting hateful towards each other -- and finally, in the whirls of the Second War, coming out to the world as yet another shock to add to Black's death. To think about all the prejudices, hatred, and grudges we went through just to be together!

...Until I found out he doesn't love me, that he loves another enough to have a child with them.

I don't think even any of Voldemort's tortures have ever hurt me that much.

* * *

_We wanted to start a life all anew,_

_We looked past all grudges -- that's not a few._

_We promised that we'd never look back --_

_You don't look back. You don't look back._

__

* * *

Remus

* * *

Five months -- I saw him!

I saw him! I've seen him, Severus Salazar Snape, the very man I love with all my heart, whose child I am carrying. And he wouldn't even _look_ at me properly.

I was at Hogwarts, coming back from my monthly checkup with Poppy. And, suddenly, I bumped into somebody in the corridor, falling over. Raising my eyes to the other person, I looked right at Severus's eyes.

He has very expressive eyes. You can see all his thoughts, all his emotions in those jet-black depths -- if you know how to look. I've seen it all there, the warmth and love that make them twinkle even worse than the Headmaster's eyes.

However, that time, there was no warmth or love in his eyes. There was just an unidentifiable emotion I couldn't quite make out. I saw it only for a couple of seconds as he surveyed me with his eyes; then he whirled around, not even bothering helping me up, and sped away like fleeing. I can remember thinking, '_Am I really that disgusting_?'

It took me two whole hours to realize what it had been -- or, rather, to accept what I knew was true. The emotion in his eyes... It was hatred.

Severus hates me.

* * *

Severus

* * *

Merlin. Dear Merlin.

I _saw_ Remus -- I saw my five-month-pregnant ex-lover. Too deep in my thoughts to pay any attention to anything going on around me, I ran right into him in a corridor here at Hogwarts. Coming from the direction of the Infirmary, he'd obviously been visiting Poppy.

As soon as I realized that I had collided with someone who'd fallen over, I stopped and glanced at my "victim". Seeing Remus in front of me on the floor, I froze completely.

Still as beautiful as ever, Remus had lost his usual thin look. He'd filled out a bit, especially around his midsection, where a definite bulge was clear to be seen. The bulge inside which his baby was developing.

His baby. Not mine.

It took me only a couple of seconds to take in it all -- Remus, his honey-silver hair framing a delicate face, his simple brown robes and the huge baby-belly. I took it all in, and then I turned around and fled. Fled like a coward, not even bothering helping the pregnant man up.

I just couldn't bear it. Not it, not _my_ Remus in front of me, _my_ Remus carrying _Shacklebolt's_ child inside him. It was just too much. All I could feel was sadness, and hatred -- hatred for myself, since it was I who hadn't been enough, who'd been unable to be a man Remus could love. It was I who was not worth his love.

...Why, Remus? Why?

* * *

_The midnight pools, whirling with life,_

_The sharp gaze cut like the finest knife._

_The warmth in them when you loved me!_

_-- Just hate I see, now just hate I see._

* * *

Remus

* * *

Six months.

I've spent the whole day crying. No matter what I do or try, the tears just continue falling. And not for much reason, even.

...No other reason that Severus not being here, by my side.

Oh, damn. Now I'm crying again like a little baby, like an overemotional woman. Or an overemotional man, on that note.

Why cannot Severus be here? Why can't he be here and hold me and pet my hair and tell me that it will be okay?

And why cannot I just stop crying?

* * *

Severus

* * *

Six months. Last night, I cried.

I find it hard to believe even myself. I don't think I have shed a tear ever since I was five or so. Certainly not after my mother's death, that much I know.

There's not even telling what brought that on. Nothing just seemed to matter anymore, nothing seemed to be worth living for. Not without Remus. Never without Remus.

But why did I cry? He doesn't love me, big deal. He's in love with another, and carrying that another's child, that's okay. But I left him, since I'm not going to be with him, watch another man's child grow up under my eyes, listen to Remus tell that he loves me and yet know that he's in love with somebody he cannot have, that he's in love with a ghost and I'm just some weak substitute for his real love. What does it mean to me? It's his heart he's given away, not mine.

But it was my heart he broke with those small, delicate hands. Three simple words -- "I am pregnant" -- and snap! That was the end of my world, since he was my world, he and his love for me, and when that love disappeared, there was no world for me.

Just the lonely, dark dullness I call my life, and bitter, silent tears in the middle of the night.

* * *

_I stand here, and here I cry_

_I see: also weeps the greying sky._

_I love you, but you don't hear that --_

_You don't look back. You don't look back._

* * *

Remus

* * *

Seven months.

Seven months of this hell, and finally, I found it. I found the reason why I'm with a child even though Voldemort cursed Severus, and even though I've never slept with anybody else.

It's all about the exact form of the curse. It makes sure that the victim of the curse "will never have a child, neither with a woman nor with a man", and it's thought to be irreversible.

However, by the official definition, I'm neither. I'm a werewolf, and even though nobody can say that I'm an animal, or a beast, I'm not wholly a human, either. I'm not wholly a man, there's always a bit of the wolf inside me.

Therefore, the curse does not include me.

This discovery could have been my salvation. It could have been, if Severus only knew about it. I sent him an owl, telling him what I'd discovered. I had some kind of a mad hope that he would believe me, that he would return to me and be with me again.

The letter was returned unopened.

If it wasn't for the child inside me, I would gladly take my life.

* * *

Severus

* * *

Seven months, and I am alone.

Remus sent me a letter a week ago. I didn't even open it, just made the owl return with it. I don't want to know what he has to say -- I don't want to risk hope only to face rejection, I don't want to be hurt again.

One could think that nothing he does or says could hurt me more than what he already has done. However, once I thought that nothing could hurt me more than the moment I saw his wolf form and found myself wondering why he hadn't told me, why he hadn't trusted me enough. And yet he hurt me more -- or not him, but the fact that he loves another, and not me.

I don't really know what keeps me still going. Every night I lie on my bed, my empty, cold bed, and think that I should kill myself. I'm yet to do it, however. Somehow, I just cannot bring myself to it.

Although I don't know how long I'll restrain myself.

* * *

_For you I would cross the deepest Hell_

_For you I would fight, and would fight well._

_For you I wail, for you I beg_

_I warmly would welcome the death._

* * *

Remus

* * *

Eight months. I'm all alone.

I never thought this might happen. We were all the time together after coming out, Severus and I. We planned to be together until death us parted -- or at least you did. Knowing that werewolves often have a shorter lifespan than the so-called pure humans, I had told him not to do anything stupid when I died. And he just told me that nothing I said could change the fact that he would follow me. Of course I then said teasingly that he couldn't just leave our children behind alone -- it was the time before Voldemort's curse -- and he laughed, telling that if by any miracle we got children, they would all be grown-up and with their own children and probably grandchildren before he allowed me to let go of life.

What would he say now, when I very well might die giving birth to our first child? Would he laugh, and if he would, would he laugh with me or at me?

And would he -- no, _will_ he leave our child behind alone, not by following me but by refusing to take care of the child? No, he won't. He cannot do that. No matter what, Severus is a man of honour; he would never allow his own offspring be raised by anybody else but himself.

Maybe I die giving birth. If I do, and the baby survives, then it is worth it. However, if one single wish would be granted for me, I know what I would wish.

I'd want to see Severus holding his child, _our_ child. If that sight ever came to my eyes, I could die happy.

* * *

Severus

* * *

Eight months behind. That means only a month to the delivery - a month until the event in which Remus might die. Yes, I know that. I'm not as ignorant about male werewolf pregnancies as most people think. In fact, I've researched the subject a lot -- at first only because of some idle interest, then because I wanted to know all about what Remus was going through because of his love for another.

The things I found on my second state of research were not pleasant. Before, I'd only been interested in the why, and the how, and not cared about the what. Now I read anything I could find about exactly what happened to the male werewolves during the pregnancy, and it was not pretty.

The pregnancy is not that much different from a female's, true enough. However, giving birth is a wholly different thing -- of course that is assuming that both the child and the carrier have survived the possible complications that may follow from the transformations at full moons. Anyway, giving birth is the most complicated part. Men are simply not designed for giving birth. In the so-called "normal" male pregnancies, the charms or potions that have created the uterus for the baby to develop in will also give them a temporary birth canal and widen their hipbones enough to let the baby through. However, as a werewolf's child is developed in an internal organ wholly different from a uterus, and is a natural part of their body, being there ever since their first transformation back to a human, there is no extra magic involved. And that is the part where it becomes difficult.

It's not that the baby cannot get out, no. Nature has cared for that. When it comes to giving birth, the male werewolf's "baby-organ" -- for the lack of a better word, for it is _not_ a uterus -- temporarily closes its connection to the rectus. Then a birth canal is simply ripped through their flesh -- not by pure magic, painlessly, like in other male pregnancies, but as a combination of raw werewolf magic and bodily functions. And their hips will widen enough to allow the baby to go through -- not by widening, but by simply breaking apart into small pieces that will not restrain the child from getting through the cruelly created canal. It usually takes at least a month after giving birth until the bones have grown back together firmly enough to allow the male werewolf to walk on his own.

But that's not enough. No, it isn't. The part of giving birth is even worse to them. Having every bone in their hips broken and in too much pain to think, the werewolf has to push to get the baby out. Usually, that's the most difficult part -- to have the carrier push the baby out. However, a werewolf's body does it on its own, instinctively. The bad thing is, frequent transformations and the changes the pregnancy has made to their bodies, werewolves mostly die of sheer exhaustion after the birth. Even at the point where anybody else would just settle on the C-section, the werewolves have no options -- their body will push until the baby is out, no matter if it will destroy itself while doing this.

And Remus is weak, what with all the injuries he's got, in the War and otherwise. I know he is, I've seen it myself in so many occasions. He tries to appear strong, but I know he's not. In the end, he is very weak.

I really hope Shacklebolt's child will not kill Remus, for I still love him, and I want nothing bad to happen to him. Even if I cannot have his love, I can at least hope that he is well and safe.

And if he dies... Well, I've actually been wondering for a long time now just why I haven't killed myself already. There clearly is nothing for me to live for, so what would it mean to anyone whether I live or die? The only thing that has been holding me to this life is the fact that Remus is still here, that even though I cannot have him to myself, I can at least follow his life from afar and make sure he's being treated fairly. A couple of owls, and even the most eager men from the Ministry's different werewolf sections shut up very quickly.

But just like I follow his life, I would follow his death, too. The day he draws his last breath will be the one I draw my last one, too.

For I love Remus, and I'm not a man to give up my love easily.

* * *

_Once, I asked what you would do_

_Once I died, if you died, too._

_Once you said you'd welcome that._

_...You don't look back. You don't look back._

* * *

Remus

* * *

Nine months.

Soon, I will be giving birth to Severus's child. Soon we will perform the test, and he'll see that I've been telling the truth, and he'll believe me and we'll be together again...

If I live through the birth, that is. It's very well possible that I don't. There have been complications with my pregnancy, so it will be only for Merlin's grace if both I and the baby survive. The chances truly are that I will die -- however, there's still some hope left that I will indeed survive. And I hope, just like I've hoped all this time, hoped that it will be worth it and that I'll see Severus again, that I'll see his eyes twinkle with love again.

Poppy told me about a charm that would get the baby out of my body safely -- safely for me, that was. I would have almost no difficulties at all, nor danger of death or even damage. However, three out of four babies delivered by the charm die. It could be, she said, it could be that my baby was the fourth, that he or she would survive and we'd both be safe.

I stared at her like she'd gone mad. There's no way, I told her, there's no way I would risk my baby only to ensure my own safety. It'd be better for my child to grow to know only one of their fathers, I said, than for me to live the rest of my life alone and in guilt. For I would be alone, that I know -- just like the paternity charm cannot be cast on an unborn child, it cannot be cast on a dead one, either. And Severus would not believe me.

Besides -- oh, shit. That _hurt_. Has the baby gone crazy or what? It's never kicked me that hard before. Sure, I've got a fair lot of kicks to my insides before, but none have been that painful.

Oh, Severus... Why cannot you be here? I'd want to let you feel it, I would have wanted that a long time ago. As soon as I felt the first brush of tiny feet inside my stomach, I hoped I could let you feel it, have your hands over my stomach, wonder together with you just how wonderful little creature there was developing inside me. And you don't want that.

* * *

Okay, so it is not kicking. Not kicking at all. All the day, they've become more and more frequent. Now, they are about quarter an hour apart.

It's time for me to get myself to Hogwarts, unless I want to give birth on my own kitchen floor. And from that, _neither_ of us would survive.

So, I grasp the special Portkey Albus has made for me -- it'll take me right to the Infirmary, and I've been carrying it everywhere with me for about a month now. Whispering the word that will activate the Portkey -- "_Godric_" -- I brace myself for the familiar whirl.

However, it never comes. Of course not, since usual Portkeying might harm my child. Instead, it feels more like gentle hands lifting me up and carrying me carefully through the soft darkness. And then, just as gently as it picked me up, the Portkey lets me down to the floor of the Infirmary.

"Remus!" exclaims Poppy, startled. "Why are you -- oh, yes. The baby's coming, isn't it?"

"Yes," I whisper, trying to catch my breath. No matter how gentle the Portkey was, it still managed to get me out of breath. "At least I think so."

"Very well." Once again, Poppy takes control, a firmness in her voice that's never there other than when she's caring for a patient. "How far apart are the contractions?"

"About fifteen minutes," I say, and almost immediately double over in pain as a particularly nasty contraction hits me. "Make it twelve," I hiss through clenched teeth. A panic is raising in me. Is it meant to be this painful? Or is something wrong?

Poppy seems to somehow know my thoughts, since she says, "Calm down, Remus. I'm sure both you and your baby will be fine. Soon we'll see Severus fawning over his child and apologizing to you for not believing you."

I smile despite the still lingering pain. The picture of Severus apologizing to anyone for anything is just too funny to ignore, just like is the picture of Severus being charmed by a newborn baby. But maybe, just maybe, that could happen.

* * *

Oh, shit. Poppy looks grave serious as she reads the results from the scanning charms she's cast on me. The contractions are only about six minutes apart, and my mind is really dizzy. What's wrong with me? Or is it the baby? Oh, no, let my baby live, even if I don't...

"Remus..." Her voice is soft, so soft, and I know it. I'll die, won't I? Just tell me... "Remus, the scans look rather bad... Your baby is fine at the moment, but it's you I'm concerned about. There might be some very bad complications. I still think the Delivery Charm --"

"-- Would kill my child," I finish harshly. "And I won't have that."

She nods slowly, so very slowly. And I can see she doesn't agree with me.

But I don't care. I don't care about anything else but having this child born, to prove Severus that I didn't cheat on him, to let my little baby live with their father and grow up to be a mighty witch or a wizard.

Even if I cannot be there to see it.

I'm in pain. I'm in an intense pain, and I know the baby's going to be born soon. Very soon. And I don't feel strong enough to go through it myself.

Is it my voice speaking there? "If I don't live through this... tell Severus..." I flinch as a new pain of wave hits me, and am unable to speak for a moment. Once I get myself under control again, I hear my voice finish the sentence. "Tell Severus... that I love him..."

And I thought as the pain again flows over me, '_That is true. That is all that matters._'

That's my last thought before I drown to the waves of pain.

* * *

Severus

* * *

Nine months. Remus should be giving birth to a little Shacklebolt some time soon. I wonder whether he's going to do it here at Hogwarts -- after all, Poppy's been examining him through the whole ordeal, she'll surely want to deliver the baby also.

But what's that? A knock on my door. Who would be there on such a late hour?

I get up from my chair and walk to the door. Then I open it to reveal the Headmaster, who is serious for once.

"Poppy sent me to get you," he says gravely. "Remus -- he's there -- but there are problems with the birth --"

He doesn't have time to say more; I'm already rushing past him and running towards the stairway. Maybe Remus doesn't love me, maybe it's another man's child he's giving birth to, but at the moment, I simply don't care.

I love Remus, no matter what. And that's all I care about at the moment.

On my way towards the Infirmary, I pray. I've never done it before, but now I find myself chanting, "Dear Merlin, let Remus live... For all that's magical, just let him _live_..."

* * *

_If I'll see your eyes' full light,_

_If I'll see them, it's worth the fight._

_If I'll see: your love is mine,_

_Death is fine. Now death is fine._

* * *

Next chapter:

You'll see whether or not I can be unbelievably cruel and let Remus die. Also, Remus holds his child but never sees Severus doing the same, and Severus finally discovers that he abandoned Remus for nothing. _Sweeeet_ angst.


	3. Almost Too Late

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not ever.

A/N: Honestly, how many of us were surprised when JKR told she's going to kill yet another person?

...Anyway, no, I'm not going to tell you Remus's final fate in this chapter, either. Mwahahahaa... I feel so evil. . But don't worry, the epilogue is already written... I'll post it as soon as I can get to the Internet again! You'll have to wait!

* * *

His Eyes

It's Too Late

* * *

I bang the doors to the Infirmary open, rushing inside. I simply don't care about anything, anything else but Remus.

Madam Pomfrey raises her eyes. "Ah, Severus," she says quietly. "I hope you could have come sooner, but I guess it doesn't matter much anymore."

At her words, I freeze. What does she mean? Is Remus -- no, he cannot be. He just can't. "What happened?" my own voice comes to my ears. Do I really sound that tired, that -- that _scared_?

"The birth was too much for him," Poppy replies quietly. "It is so for most male werewolves -- their body is not designed for giving birth, and the transformations weaken them. And with the War injuries --"

"Is he dead?" I blurt out, interrupting her, unable to bear hearing any more facts I know already. In my mind I swear that if he is, I will follow him. There's no reason to live if Remus, _my_ Remus is dead.

"No," she replies briefly. "Not quite yet. But he's dying, and I can do nothing for him but ease his pain. Not that he cares about it himself -- he's unconscious now, and won't wake up." A closer gaze tells me that she's crying. I feel like crying, too.

All I want to do is to demand her to tell me where Remus is, to go to see him, to see for myself that he's really dying and she's not just playing an incredibly cruel joke at me. However, all that comes out is, "And the baby?"

"Lives," she replies simply, "and will live. A beautiful baby girl, she is. Remus -- he named her Alinca. Where on Earth he found that name, I don't know."

I know. By Merlin, I know. Alinca was the name of my little sister -- one I loved very dearly, until she drowned into the pond in our garden when she was five. I've only ever told Remus about her.

Poppy beckons me, still sobbing silently, big, salty tears rolling down her already damp cheeks. I follow her, since I simply cannot think of anything else to do. She leads me to a tiny crib in the corner of the Infirmary. Looking down at it, I find there the tiniest human creature I've ever seen. She's very small and very red, and really thin. However, in some odd, newborn baby way, she is truly beautiful.

Alinca. Oh, Alinca, how I wish you were mine...

"She's yours," a voice startles me from my thoughts, like somebody had been reading them. Glancing up, I see Poppy watching me. "Remus was telling you the simple truth all the time. He never cheated on you, he never could. I performed a test on her to prove it, just a couple of minutes ago, and she is truly yours. Seemingly that curse Voldemort cast on you only counts for full humans -- and therefore, a werewolf could carry a baby for you. Could, and did."

And that's it. That's the point where I break, where I start crying like a lost child. It is all _my_ fault, _I_ left Remus, I didn't believe my beloved. He sent me a letter -- maybe he tried to tell me? And I didn't want to listen to him! I could have been with him -- supported him through the pregnancy -- kept him well and safe. I should have, and I fucked it all up. Maybe, just maybe, he would have lived if I just hadn't been such a bastard...

Suddenly, a hand touches my shoulder. There's no need to look up to see who it belongs to.

"Don't blame yourself," says Albus quietly, "and don't blame the child. Remus blamed neither of you -- and he loved you both to the very end of it. He could have survived, you know -- there is a Delivery Charm. However, he chose not to use it, as the chances were the child would have died. He wanted to let his child -- _your_ child -- live its life, and he didn't care about himself. I don't think he even would have wanted to return to his lonely life if the child had died."

My fault, my fault, my fault. It's all my fault.

Suddenly I notice that Poppy has drawn open the curtains that had been framing one of the beds in the corner. In the bed lies Remus, raised to a half-sitting position with pillows, his eyes closed. His skin is deathly pale, and he looks so sick, so sick... Like he was dying. And he _is_ dying, he's dying and he will never come back.

"He held her for a brief moment," tells Poppy, obviously struggling to speak through her tears. "Then he just whispered, 'Alinca... Her name is Alinca,' and fainted. It was simply too much for him, I was close to losing them both in more than one point... And after all that, he only could hold her for half a minute before losing her forever!" Now the mediwitch starts to cry, unable to control herself anymore.

"No." I'm startled to realize that the voice that's speaking is mine. "He won't die. I won't let him die, not this way."

"I'm afraid we cannot prevent it," Albus says sadly. "I'm sorry, Severus, but you must face the truth. Remus gave his life for little Alinca. We must respect his choice, and do everything we can to give Alinca a full life."

"Fuck you," I mutter under my breath. Sure, I rarely curse, but even I have my limits.

The old coot looks actually startled. So he's in fact capable of that? Unbelievable. "Excuse me?" asks Albus, sounding a bit confused.

"I said, fuck you," I reply, the calmness of my voice surprising even myself. "I'll be damned if I let him die." And then, not giving him time to stop me, I rush to Remus's side, draw my wand, and start chanting the charm.

Albus's eyes widen with disbelief. "No, Severus, don't!" he exclaims. "Stop the spell, Severus -- please. Remus is too far gone now... You'll only pour all your life power into him, and then you'll both die!"

"I don't fucking care!" I yell, then start chanting again, knowing that not an outsider can stop the spell without killing me in the process. The feeling of being drained fills me, and I am glad about it. Maybe, just maybe, my life would be enough of a sacrifice to save Remus...

"Stop it!" screams Poppy, rushing to the other side of the hospital bed where my only love lies. "Think about Alinca, Severus!" she then says, the little baby girl lying on her arms. "Remus wanted you to take care of her. Don't abandon her."

I don't stop the charm, but I slow down a bit. She's right. I'm the only one there is to take care of Alinca, I owe Remus at least that much for all the pain -- both physical and otherwise -- that I have put him through. But I cannot stop, not yet.

Then Poppy, seeing that I'm not going to stop, does probably the last thing she can think of. Walking to my side, she puts Alinca into my arms -- and lets go. I have to stop casting the charm to catch my daughter before she falls from her awkward position.

Holding the tiny baby, Remus's baby, _our_ baby on my arms, I fall to my knees on the floor of the Infirmary and start crying. Remus is lost. I've lost Remus, _my_ Remus, and only because I was so fucking proud and stupid and wouldn't listen to him.

...I don't notice the wavering sigh escaping his frail body...

* * *

The next: **Epilogue**

Fifteen years later, Severus talks with Alinca about Remus.

...Yeah, that's all I'm going to tell you about it. Suffer.


	4. Epilogue

Disclaimer: No, they're not mine.

A/N: And at last, we'll find out whether Remus is alive.

...He IS! Rejoice, all of you!

So, this takes place when Alinca is 15.

* * *

His Eyes

Epilogue

* * *

"Here," says Poppy, handing me the magically cleaned baby that has been wrapped in a soft blanket. "Hold him while I check Remus's current condition. There's nothing instantly alarming, but I just want to be sure."

I nod in understanding. This is the fourth baby of mine I'm holding in the Infirmary, and the third time I've been present in the actual birth. Alinca is fifteen now -- my dear eldest daughter. Meredith, her sister, is six, and Juniper, our baby boy until now, is three. And here, safe and secure in my arms, is our second son, mere minutes old Alec, like we'd agreed far before he was born. Alec was also the name of Remus's father, whom he loved dearly. If he'd been a she, we'd called her Helen, for no reason at all but that we both liked the name.

"Hello, my baby boy," I whisper quietly to the now quiet baby that just minutes ago was wailing from the top of his lungs. "It was about the time you came here." And truly, that it was -- he wasn't born until almost a full month after the term was full. Not that it was that bad for him, no; at least it's better than Meredith, whom Remus only carried for six months and who almost died because she was so weak when she was born. However, it is indeed bad for Remus -- a longer term doesn't only mean a longer time of all the problems that come with pregnancy, but also a bigger baby to give birth to. And that means more blood, more pain -- more danger.

However, to my great relief, Poppy soon tells me that Remus is quite okay and will recover relatively well. Partly it's maybe thanks to the strengthening potions I've poured down his throat all these past years, as those have made him lost the weak look so usual to werewolves and appear as a normal man who doesn't have to go through that horrid transformation every month.

We put little Alec to a cradle next to Remus's bed, and I leave to let Poppy fawn over them both and go to inform the rest of my family. It's late at night already, the little children should both be sleeping already, but I know that Alinca, at least, is still waiting for news about the new baby.

However, when I get to our quarters -- usually Alinca sleeps of course in her dormitory, but it's Christmas break right now -- I hear quiet crying from somewhere. Peering into the corridor along which the children's rooms are. Looking into the corridor, I see Juniper's small form standing in Alinca's doorway.

"Ali?" he sobs, tears continuously falling down his cheeks. "Ali?"

"Come here, Juniper, dear," I hear Alinca's sleepy voice from the inside. "You can sleep next to me." And Juniper goes in, still crying. I stand in the corridor, listening, not wanting to startle my little boy, who's obviously only halfly awake. Well, my big boy, now that there's an even smaller boy around.

A couple of minutes later, the crying stops. I put my head into the room and see Alinca lying on her bed, still in full clothes, a tear-faced boy sound asleep next to her tucked in with several blankets.

"Dad?" asks Alinca as soon as she sees me, keeping her voice down not to wake Juniper. "How's Daddy? And the baby?"

I know that a stupid grin spreads on my face, but I don't much care at the moment. "A nice, beautiful baby brother for you," I tell her. "Your Daddy is fine, too."

"Amazing!" she exclaims, oblivious to the little startle Juniper gives at the loud noise, and jumps up from her bed. "May I go to see Daddy, then?" asks Alinca then, raising hopeful eyes at me. She's always been the "Daddy's girl".

However, I have to disappoint her. "I'm afraid you can't," is the only answer I can give her. "He needs a lot of rest now. That's why he's still in the Infirmary -- it'll take at least two or three weeks before he can be moved back home. You do remember that from when Meredith and Juniper were born, don't you?"

"I do," she replies. Then, however, she frowns. "Why is it so, thought?" she asks. "Whenever Melinda's mother has given birth, she's come home with the baby only a few days after the birth, and been completely okay after that. Why cannot Daddy be moved here yet? And why it takes so much time from him to recover enough to even _walk_?"

Ah, yes, Melinda Weasley. I still cannot understand how my daughter could become best friends with Bill Weasley's child, and thus unofficially join the Weasley clan. Melinda, also the eldest of her parents, has the whole of ten younger siblings by now. Surely she could inform her best friend about the reality of birth-giving.

"Well, you could say that giving birth isn't quite as easy to your Daddy as it is to your friend's mother," I tell her, trying to choose my words carefully. If she doesn't guess it by herself, I don't want to shock her. Of course I'll have to tell her, she's so old she'd start wondering if I didn't tell her, but in the middle of the night is not really the right time for that kind of news.

Realization seems to dawn on her. "Giving birth is dangerous to him, isn't it?" she asks with a bit accusing tone.

"Yes, it is dangerous," I admit quietly. "He risks his life every time he gives birth."

"But why does he do it, then?" Alinca inquires. "And why do you let him do it? Surely there'd be some way to prevent him becoming pregnant..." She seemingly isn't going to give up. I cannot blame her, though -- I wouldn't give up if I was she. I'd want to _know_, know and understand.

"He continuously risks his life because having children has always been his biggest dream," I tell her, as there's no point to keep anything in secret from her. She's old enough to know. "And I let him do it because I love him, and I want his dreams come true, no matter if it pains me to do so." Then, with an even quieter voice, I add, "I learnt a long time ago that if he's decided to give his life for something, there's no stopping him. Besides, I wasn't there for him during his first pregnancy, and I almost lost him. Maybe I'm making up for that, trying to ensure that he can get his children as safely and comfortably as it is possible for a male werewolf."

Alinca frowns. "What do you mean, 'almost lost him?'" she asks. Clever girl, for actually trying to think and understand. My clever little girl, so much like her father -- and I don't mean myself.

"When he gave birth to you, he was very weak, and thus, it was much more dangerous. Poppy suggested him a Delivery Charm to save him all the pain and trouble, but as there was a 75 per cent chance that you might die, he of course refused." Drawing a deep breath to organize my thoughts, I continue, "He almost died... He _would_ have died, had I not given some of my own life power to him. After that, I forced him to wait until he was wholly recovered until we could even consider having more children -- that's why there's such a large age gap between you and Meredith."

"Oh," she just says quietly. She looks a bit afraid, I notice.

"Don't worry," I say to her with a small sigh. "When I said that your Daddy is fine, I meant it. Sure, he's had his flesh torn and his hip bones broken to let the baby through, and he's exhausted and weak, but all things considered, he's just as fine as possible." Then, noticing her upset expression, I continue, "Come on, Alinca, let's go and have a cup of tea, shall we? And if Poppy calls me to tell that your Daddy has woken up, you can come to see him, too."

"Okay," she replies immediately, then follows me to the small kitchen of our quarters. Sitting on her favourite chair in the end of the table, she watches me while I put the teapot on fire. "How exactly does it happen?" she then suddenly asks just as the tea is ready. "I mean, how can you and Daddy have babies?"

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Don't tell me you haven't been told about birds and bees often enough."

"I have," she says, "but I didn't mean that part. Sure, I know how you make a baby, but how? I've researched male pregnancy potions, and I'm yet to find one that would fit a werewolf's metabolism."

There's no stopping the small laugh escaping my mouth. Alinca may be her Daddy's girl through and through, but when it comes to potions of any kind, she's almost as bad as I am. "Well, you're right," I say then, pouring two cups of tea and taking them both to the table. "He couldn't digest any of those. However, male werewolves have a special organ -- a bit like a uterus, but not quite." She nods, telling me to continue. So, I do. "So, every werewolf can carry a baby of their mate's, the one they are in love with -- and nobody else's. When it comes the time for giving birth -- assuming that there are no complications during the pregnancy, of course -- it turns really difficult." Taking a sip of tea, I make a small pause, then go on. "In female pregnancies, a birth canal already exists. In 'usual' male pregnancies, so to speak, it is created painlessly by magic. However, in a male werewolf's pregnancy, it is torn right through their flesh -- very bloody, and very painful." Oblivious to her shocked expression, I still go on. "Of course, their hips cannot let the baby through. Females already have wide hips, and most males have their hips temporarily widened by magic, but a werewolf's hip bones are broken into hundreds of little pieces."

"Oh," Alinca whispers. "That sounds really painful."

"It is," I admit. "And remember that werewolves cannot even digest the Skele-Gro potion. All that can be done to them is to feed them some potions to speed up the bones' natural growth back together, and at least a full month of recovery. And, during the birth-giving, they cannot rest even the little other people can, or have a C-section performed -- their body will just push continuously until the baby is out, or until they are dead."

My last statement startles her so much that she almost drops her tea cup. "Dear Merlin," she whispers. "How can any of them survive?"

"Some are strong enough," I say, shrugging. I'm really sorry for upsetting her like this, but it's about the time she gets to know.

We talk still for some time. I warn her that, should Poppy call, she must not look too shocked about her Daddy's condition. And she nods. My clever girl.

And, at last, Poppy truly calls. She hasn't even stopped talking before I already rush out of the room, Alinca right on my heels.

By the time we get to the Infirmary, Remus is wholly awake, although sleepy. He looks up to us when we come in. "Severus," he says quietly. "And Alinca... Hi."

"Hi, Daddy," says Alinca nervously. Of course. She's never been allowed to come to see her Daddy and the new baby until Remus has recovered enough to keep a strong, cheery face up to the children. This sight -- her Daddy, exhausted and hurt -- must be really shocking.

Remus lies on his bed, half-propped up by the pillows -- he will not be able to sit properly for at least a week, two at most. I also know that Poppy has bound both his legs and pelvis magically to the bed to keep them completely still during his recovery, so he's only able to move his upper body. The spells won't be released until when he's moved back "home" to our quarters, and even then, he still cannot stand or walk for some time.

Also, we see the reason that woke Remus. In his still weak arms lies Alec, our little baby, sucking furiously milk from the bottle he has in his mouth.

"Awwww," breathes Alinca when we go nearer and she gets a closer look at the baby. "I'd already forgotten how tiny newborn babies can be."

"Tiny?" asks Remus, chuckling tiredly. "He certainly did not feel tiny a couple of hours ago. But yes, I suppose that he is tiny, at least compared with his brother.

"Yeah..." sighs Alinca, wisely letting the mention of the difficulty of birth-giving go by uncommented. Her eyes are locked at her new brother, and her expression is that of amazement and wondering. "I wonder if my babies are going to be as cute," she then says dreamily.

"You try that too soon, young lady, and you'll be grounded forever and the father-to-be will have Aurors after him," I say calmly.

Both she and Remus laugh; they are so much alike, in good and bad. Although, to both our great relief, not she nor any of her siblings are lycanthropic. It's quite enough that Remus is burdened by that curse, it'd certainly be too much if any of our children got it.

Then Alec slowly opens his eyes ajar, and once again, we see a small miracle -- or, by this time, it has become almost a family tradition. Newborn babies usually all have blue eyes that won't change to their final colour until they're about one year old. However, sometimes, especially if the baby's going to have dark eyes, their final eye colour shows immediately.

And so it is with Alec. So it has been with every one of our children, as none of them has blue eyes, nor do they have the golden orbs of Remus.

They all have had onyx black eyes from the day they were born.

My eyes.

* * *

THE END

* * *

So, _His Eyes _has come to its beautiful end. I thank all you who have reviewed, and I genuinely hope you will still review.


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